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Sometimes I see images like this and it just hits me. Hatsune Miku. Eating a cake. She’s not real, she doesn’t age, she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t scroll through timelines wondering where everything went wrong. She just exists — eternally consuming a piece of cake in some frozen JPEG dimension while I sit here in 144p life quality, trying to remember what happiness tasted like. People keep telling me, “Go outside,” “Touch grass,” “Find purpose,” but I swear the grass doesn’t even load anymore. It’s all just lag and background noise. Miku’s cake probably has more texture than anything I’ve eaten in weeks. She’s smiling because she doesn’t know she’s code. I’m frowning because I do. And yet, somehow, there’s comfort in that. Like, yeah, she’s just pixels — but so am I at this point. I scroll and scroll and the cake never ends. The world keeps rotting and she keeps eating. Maybe that’s the real lesson: to consume joy without thinking, to eat the cake and not question why there’s a cake in the first place. Maybe that’s enlightenment. Maybe that’s just coping. I don’t even know anymore. Anyway, good for her, I guess.
